In her article on the orphans of Rwanda, the author shares one young orphan’s hope for a better future.
(click on thumbnails for full-size images)
Late one evening in January of 2005 I finished the introduction to General Dallaire’s Shake Hands With The Devil: “Almost fifty years to the day that my father and father-in-law helped to liberate Europe—when the extermination camps were uncovered and when, in one voice, humanity said, ‘Never Again’—we once again sat back and permitted this unspeakable horror to occur. We could not find the political resources to stop it. Since then, much has been written, discussed, debated, argued and filmed on the subject of Rwanda, yet it is my feeling that this recent catastrophe is being forgotten and its lessons submerged in ignorance and apathy. The genocide in Rwanda was a failure of humanity that could easily happen again.” Incensed and saddened by this failure, I traveled to Rwanda a few months later. Inspired by Dallaire’s vision, I too wanted to do something positive for the orphans of Rwanda.
Gisimba Memorial Center is located on the outskirts of Kigali, Rwanda’s capitol which is spread out over seven hills and is nestled in the neighborhood of Nyamirambo. Enter the orphanage’s grounds and you are greeted with the shrill of little boys playing European football (our soccer). Beyond the dirt and grass soccer field girls docilely align—each intense in her knitting. Clad in striped and ripped hand-me-down skirts and bright sandals, or bare feet, girls from five to nineteen knit tiny scarves. The older girls eagerly tutor their younger sisters, all knitters easy-going yet focused. In a sea of knitters, my tutor for the photography project, Denise Kiyetesi awaits my arrival. Everywhere are clusters of kids playing, chatting, laughing.
Regardless of which orphan you talk to, all share in a love of their home, thanks to Damas Gisimba’s overwhelming support. His mission that children live a healthy and happy life is a challenging mission to achieve, but he has invested his entire life, and the investment continues to pay off. Gisimba Memorial Center is above all a tight-knit community of brothers and sisters who look after each other with complete devotion.
Just ask Alex Nsengimana, a Gisimba orphan who now attends high school in Wynona, Minnesota. Alex still keeps in touch with Damas and fondly describes his father figure as a “very kind and loving person. He is a great parent. He is one of the heroes in Rwanda.” Alex recalls a difficult time in his life which led to his coming to Gisimba Memorial Center: “My Auntie 
got so sick she put my brother and I at Gisimba in March of 1995. At first it was kind [of] hard because I did not [know] some people but after a while it was great.” Alex and I met in October of last year, via the internet and my photographs, and we speak frequently. When Alex and I first began chatting, we were both excited to share a passion for and commitment to Gisimba Memorial Center and its orphans. Alex hopes to be a priest one day.
Though thousands of miles apart, Alex and Denise remain family, and each has a story that would break your heart before inspiring you to action. While Alex receives full sponsorship here in the states, Denise’s sponsorship is less substantial. In fact, when I returned from Rwanda in July of last year, I made it my mission to raise money to send Denise to college. Anywhere you go in Rwanda, you meet people affected by the genocide, but because of the lingering pain, you don’t ask questions—you simply listen with respect and compassion to their stories. One afternoon, I had a chance to listen to Denise's story.
"After genocide I live with my mom and then after 2 years she died. And then I had my elder brother so he saw that I wasn't going to be able to continue my schooling then he brought me here, at the orphanage. He's the first-born. He studies at ULK, University Liberty of Kigali."
16, soon to be 17, Denise came to Gisimba in
1997 at the age of 8. Denise's father was murdered during the 1994 genocide, and in
1997, when Denise's mom died of malaria, Denise's two older brothers and sister were separated. When Denise told me about her mom, I thought about an article I’d read in the BBC’s Africa: Focus, on the plane ride over to Rwanda—something about a malaria net costing $2.30, not even the price of a Starbuck’s Frappaccino. (This would be only one of many moments that would make me question humanity and our priorities—a mother dead because she couldn’t afford the cost of a, by American standards, really cheap bug net.) Nevertheless, my own mental anguish didn’t register, and Denise continued her narrative. She remains thankful to be at Gisimba. She was too young when her father was killed to remember him. Though she recalls her mother vividly, she's too sad to say much: "She was sociable and she liked people and she liked advising us."
Behind us on the wall is a woven mat typical of Rwanda; on it are pinned photos of the orphans over the years. Orphans sharing similar stories of parents lost to genocide, malaria, AIDS. One image shows Denise on stage, mouth open wide, singing the Gospel.
Shortly after Denise arrived at Gisimba, she, like Alex two years before her, was whisked away to Uganda with the 16th group from the orphanage to sing with the African's Children Choir. I try to imagine those 24 orphans first up north in '97, then in California, Utah, Texas, New York, Canada, and Alaska in '98, then England in 2000. I try to imagine Denise leading them with her sonorous humming but I can't.
Instead, my thoughts fixate on the reality of today: what will happen to Denise and the other orphans at Gisimba?
"The most important thing is that I study. There are 23 girls in my room--all ages.
We take care of the kids. We stop them when we see fighting. We have to help our chaperone, bathe them and dress them."
Last year, a Canadian nurse donated the supplies to partition Denise's once undivided room into tiny mini-rooms, each containing 4 bunk beds and 4 girls.
Denise is much happier now that they don't have to live in one huge space. In a place where privacy is rare, sharing space with 4 is as close to privacy as it gets.
"My life? The good things? I went to America. I forgot all about being lonely. So we live together, boys and girls. We advise each other." Denise grows thoughtful. Outside, the sky flickers with the changing clouds. Sunshine here in the Nyambiramba neighborhood is intense, so the pulsing gray offers relief to the orphans who are playing with their skinny goat, chasing him around in circles. On the other side of the soccer field, a thin girl in a dress sucks on sugar cane, the threads catching between her teeth. She wears a huge smile, delighted to watch the goat chase in front of her. The din and echo of boys yelping is a sweet contrast to this melancholy interview.
Denise breaks the silence, "Sometimes I see things that can make me unhappy. But then when it comes to that time I remember that I have God watching over me. I love to sing so much. Christian songs. Whenever I'm unhappy, I just sing to myself and it makes me feel better." Denise's faith in God is unwavering, but it doesn't make up for her longing for her mother. "Sometimes I think that if I had my mom, I could be happy. Not having one to solve my problems is hard. Like you know you want something that you could have if you had parents. Here at Gisimba, we don't get all but we get some."
I ask Denise what she most wants. "Clothes, shoes. What you have to know, we have to study and make our future." Denise loves chemistry and biology. Like all the other orphans, when asked what she likes to eat, she grins broadly and lists the foods all American kids prefer too: French Fries, hamburgers, ice cream. One food, however, that American kids don't eat very often, is at the top of her list. Rice! In Kinyarwanda, rice is "umuceri" so following the interview, the other little orphans began calling their sister Umuceri. Gisimba rations its meals, the main ingredients of which are beans, potatoes, posho (salted corn meal), beef, rice, pineapple, bananas, carrots, tomatoes, and onions.
Denise continues her listing. "I don't like a person hurting me, hurting my feelings. I don't like people fighting. I don't like seeing people suffering." I ask her to list what she owns. A bed. 
Clothes, a school uniform that's dark yellow and white, blue jeans. She owns a Bible too, but no bicycle. "We had some bicycles that some people donated, but they did not work."
“I want to study to be a doctor.” Specialty? “The heart. I would like to help orphans when I grow up. I would like to help little kids." Born July 10, 1988, Umuceri watched her two older brothers join the rebel soldiers led by now President Paul Kagame's "invading" army from Uganda. Each had not yet reached 7th grade when he swapped schoolbook for soldier's machete.
A father murdered, a mother dead from malaria, Denise remains hopeful. I think that her hope can inspire us all. In fact, I see Denise years from now, making her rounds as a doctor, comforting younger orphans with kind words and endless hugs. Of course, it's going to take a lot more than donated rice to make that happen. It’s going to take continued collective action to feed, clothe, and educate Denise and all the orphans of Rwanda.
Though we failed Rwanda in 1994, we needn’t fail again. There’s so much we can all do to help Denise Kiyetesi and her brothers and sisters maintain hope—and realize their dreams. Let us not forget this “recent catastrophe” from which hundreds of thousands of children continue to recover and rehabilitate. If you are interested in helping the orphans at Gisimba Memorial Center, please visit “Orphans of Rwanda” at www.orphansofrwanda.org/getinvolved.php#donate for more information, or email me at camera_rwanda@ yahoo.com
About the Author Kresta's photographs depict the beauty and joy of Gisimba's children, as well as the reality of their sometimes conflicted present and painful past. Community, spirit, and hope further mark Kresta's photographs that are intended to raise awareness about the orphans of Gisimba Memorial Center, Rwanda, and other African countries. Kresta's photography calls attention to victims of genocide, malaria, and AIDS. A soon-to-be retired teacher, Kresta intends to pursue photography on a full-time basis. Her work has been used by Book of Hope, Opportunity International, as well as other non-profit organizations and can be seen on various websites, including, most recently, www.pearlchildren.de in Uganda. You can see more of Kresta's work at: http://camerarwanda.blogspot.com/
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